#wordsbyf

1:27 It is always a few minutes shy of half-past, some odd hour of no consequence, a mid-day cigarette break down in a glass room coughing up its soul on the threshold; sometimes, it is a dark blue night, a time still too early for sinners and a little too late for the honest ones - but there are too few of those. It is waning: hesitating close to the stroke of “we are only midway” and midway is a sanctuary for the uncertain. Everyone has somewhere to be on the hour; shadows crawl with the sun, cities teem with time running across the streets, time slipping through traffic, time standing still on the crossing, cigarette in hand, hesitant: mid-way smile for a mid-way moment of no importance, a few minutes shy of half-past, some odd hour of too much consequence. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #words #writersofig #writerscommunity #poetry #poetsofinstagram #poetrycommunity #poetsofig #poetryisnotdead #writersnetwork

Listen to: M83 - Un Nouveau Soleil The World ends at nine in the Morning when the Sun is already too high and I am a little unsettled by the unnatural length of Night. The World ends with a new Sun rising at Midnight because it wants to remind me that silent Sunsets are misconceptions of Minds that believe the Stars still crash into the Ocean each Night, Minds too willing to suspend some gentle disbelief, Minds that give in to turning Time, Clock hands moving with some Godsend pull of a Gravity that only serves to remind me that some Suns walk this Earth on two legs, some Suns wander off to the West when you are watching the Eastern Stars rise in a Sky they promised you was blue; but I want the Sky to be the colour of my Sun’s deep Soul, I want my Sky bright like their faraway Eyes, and I want my tired Sun asleep in my tired arms. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #writersofig #writing #poetsofig #writersnetwork #poetry #writingcommunity #poetsofinstagram #poetssociety #writingcommunity

And of course the great kindness is that things fade with a tenderness akin to the dew that attaches itself to your name. Things fade with conviction, and the world reminds me that I am a formless figure of fantasy, hastening away on a west-bound wind. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #writersofinstagram #poetryofinstagram #writingcommunity #poetry #poetrycommunity #writersofig #writersnetwork #poetsofig #poetryisnotdead

I like to pretend it doesn’t matter, that we are only stale lovers scattering like old cigarette ash, stained sheets wrapped tightly around heaving breasts, unkept rendezvous in a dark night. I pretend we are hazy lamp light seeping through the curtains, the faint smell of toothpaste and corked wine mingling with an aroma of bodies attuned to one another’s touch. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #writersofig #writersofinstagram #poetsnetwork #poetry #poetrycommunity #writerscommunity #bymepoetry #poetsofinstagram

Tomorrow your kiss won’t sting, The lipstick stain on your collarbone Will come off in the shower, My candy-cane heart won’t shatter in your hands And we will carry on. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #poetry #poetrycommunity #writingcommunity #poetryofinstagram #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram #writer

And we are both awake and wondering where the breathing will take us: if there are still spaces in between the letters of our names that can fit our bare bodies; if the shadows of our words will fall on our skin like the shadows of our bodies fell onto the pages of the stories we wrote in hurried script. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #words #wordgasm #wordporn #write #writer #writers #writing #writersofig #writersnetwork #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram #poem #poet #poems #poets #poetry #poetsofig #poetrynetwork #poetrycommunity #poetryofinstagram #poetryisnotdead #heartofpoets #herheartpoetry #bymepoetry #bymepoetryasia

Portrait of a Poet in Her Lover’s Studio Listen to: Ben Howard - Promise A window. Two figures repose in a dim light. There is little left to say this time of night. There are quiet, supple limbs, skin near skin, a warm embrace lingering in the pale hue of nights that cling to the hours. There is small silence, a room hushed by the poetry of bodies in subtle motion, by painted words immortalised on a tired easel, a study of careful hands caressing tender voids as they make of breathing a portrait of primordial passion. . . Words by F . . #wordsbyf #wordsonapage #words #wordgasm #wordporn #write #writing #writing #writersofig #poet #poem #poets #poetry #poetsofig #poetsofinstagram #poetrycommunity #poetrynetwork #writersofinstagram

Her knees look like mine. And I don’t know much about biology But when you breathe in the crevice of her knees, I feel the soft air in the hollow of skin and nerves that collects behind my tired bones. They say no two people have the same ears And mine are accustomed to your breathing lips But I cannot tell if, when you trace your tongue along the curve of my helix, you lose your way, muscle memory wavering as you try to find your bearings again. - Words by F #WordsbyF #wordsonapage #words #write #writer #writing #writersofig #writerscommunity #writersofinstagram #writingcommunity #poet #poem #poems #poetry #poetsofig #poetrycommunity #poetsofinstagram #prose #prosepoetry #love #lovepoem #heartbreak